Moving On
by Salintha
Summary: When Castiel agrees to meet Mick Davies in order to gain information about the location of Kelly Kline, he expects it to be a trick, or an ambush. Instead, the man asks Castiel out on a date. And Castiel accepts. This contains a lot of of Cas!whump and pining.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel's eyes darted from one corner of the diner to the other, expecting an ambush at any moment. He didn't really think the British Men of Letters would try to attack him in such a public place, but it didn't hurt to be careful. Especially under such suspicious circumstances.

He'd been on his way back to the bunker when he got a call from Mick Davies. The man had told him that he had new information regarding the location of Kelly Kline, but he hadn't wanted to tell Castiel over the phone, suggesting they meet instead.

That would be suspicious enough as it was – there was no reason for them to meet just so Mick could tell him the information – but the man had also sounded nervous over the phone.

So now Castiel was sitting in a booth with a cup of coffee in front of him, and his angel blade clutched in his hand under the table. If this really was an ambush, he wasn't sure how much he'd be able to fight off the Men of Letters given the kind of technology they had at their disposal, but he had to take the risk. They needed to find Kelly, nothing else mattered.

Finally, Castiel spotted Mick walking through the door, and tensed, gripping the handle of his blade even more tightly. Mick seemed to have no trouble finding him, even though Castiel didn't make an attempt to wave him over, and sat down opposite Castiel.

"I apologize for being late. I seemed to have underestimated the traffic," Mick said, laughing nervously. Castiel frowned, but didn't comment and instead scanned the entire diner again.

"That's alright, I don't mind," Castiel replied, and Mick smiled at him. "You said you have some information on Kelly Kline?"

Mick's smile dissipated. "Oh, yes," he said, putting his briefcase on the table and pulling out a folder. "Here."

Castiel took the folder and opened it. There was a map showing Kelly's most recent location, as well as photos from security cameras. Unfortunately, according to the files, she had been there four days ago, so Kelly had most likely left the town already. Still, it was better than nothing, which was what he usually had to work with, so Castiel was grateful.

"Thank you, this should be very useful," Castiel said, very much intending to leave, but a look from Mick stopped him. Of course, nothing was for free. "You want something in return."

Mick sputtered a little. "W-well, not exactly. Y'see, we already sent a reconnaissance team to the town, and Kelly is not there anymore. So, giving you this information wasn't exactly a pressing matter."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the other man. He had already assumed that Kelly had left by now, but if the British Men of Letters knew this as well, why had Mick insisted on meeting Castiel here?

"I, uh, I wanted to ask you something. In person," Mick continued, running a hand through his hair. So it was information from _him_ Mick wanted. Well, Castiel wouldn't tell him anything. He had nothing against Mick, but the organization he worked for made the angel uneasy, and he didn't want to help them or work with them in any way or form. But before Castiel could voice his opinion, Mick asked his question.

"Would you maybe, uh, be interested in going on a date? With me? Sometimes?"

There was a loud clang as Castiel dropped his angel blade, drawing the attention of everyone in the diner for a moment, but Castiel barely even noticed. All he could do was stare at Mick with his mouth hanging open. Mick wanted to…date _him_?

"Why?" Castiel asked as Mick bent down to pick up the blade, sounding a little defensive. What was Mick's plan here? Was he hoping to gain some information about angels from him? He took the blade back silently when Mick handed it him as discreetly as possible.

"Because you are interesting, and I like you, and I'd like to get to know you better?" Mick replied, sounding incredibly confused by the angel's question. "Were you…expecting me to attack you?"

Castiel looked back at the blade in his hand and quickly hid it, looking down at his coffee, suddenly feeling very silly for being so paranoid.

"Bloody hell…I-I'm sorry, I should have just asked you over the phone," Mick said, running a hand over his face. "Sorry for wasting your time, I, uh, I'll just…" He closed his suitcase and looked like he was about to leave.

"No, wait," Castiel stopped him, unsure why he did so. His heart belonged to Dean, after all. It would always belong to Dean. But…

Dean didn't want him, not like Castiel wanted him, at least, and he most likely never would. Castiel had told him he loved him just a while ago, and Dean pretended it hadn't happened. Not that Castiel blamed him. Maybe it was time to stop hoping. And Castiel would lie if he said that he hadn't thought that Mick was attractive at least once, or that Castiel didn't want to find out more about the man.

And it was just one date. Castiel wasn't really busy with how few leads he usually had, so it wouldn't keep him from anything, and he could make up his mind afterwards.

"Are you saying you _are_ interested?" Mick asked, his voice hopeful.

Castiel ducked his gaze. "Yes," he replied shyly, and Mick beamed at him.

Unlike Castiel, Mick was a very busy man, so they planned the date for next week, which meant that the angel had plenty of time to think about why this might be a mistake and also realize that he had little to no idea what one was actually supposed to do on a date. All of his knowledge concerning the topic came from watching television, but he hadn't watched many shows or movies that focused on that.

He would have asked Sam or Dean, but he was sure that they would ask who he was going on a date with, and when they found out they would definitely try to talk out of it. Or at least Dean would. He seemed to dislike Mick a lot, although Castiel wasn't sure why.

Anyway, seeing as his only friends weren't the best people to ask right now, Castiel decided to ask Google. He was a little surprised to find out that the topic was less complicated than he'd though – just getting to know each other over a fun activity. Mick had suggested dinner, which meant Castiel would have to pretend food didn't taste like molecules to him. Or maybe he could dial down his grace a little.

Google had also advised him that he should wear something nice, depending on where the date would be taking place. Castiel had looked up the restaurant Mick had made a reservation at, and noted that everything was very expensive, which meant that it would be best if he stuck with his suit and left the coat behind.

It also meant that he would need more money. He was fairly confident he had enough for the date, but that would leave him with nothing to buy gas with and that was a problem. He put his wallet back into his pocket with a sigh and tried to straighten his tie again, feeling incredibly nervous.

Maybe he should call it off. He hated lying to the Winchesters, especially when it something as unimportant as this. He took his phone out of his pocket, intending to text Mick something along those lines, when he noticed Mick had sent him a text ten minutes ago. How had he missed that?

' _I'll pick you up at 6. Is that alright? ;)_ ' the text said, and Castiel's heart skipped a beat. Mick was clearly looking forward to spending time with him, which wasn't something Castiel was all that used to. He couldn't cancel the date without hurting the other man's feelings, so Castiel decided against it.

Instead, Castiel texted back a simple ' _yes_ ' and smiled at the screen slightly. Hopefully today wouldn't be a total disaster.


	2. Chapter 2

As it turned out, unless Castiel counted the slightly awkward moment at the end of the date when Mick had kissed him, and Castiel had been so shocked by this that he hadn't managed to respond until Mick was already pulling away, assuming that Castiel hadn't wanted that, so the angel had had to clarify that he did and initiate the second kiss clumsily, the date had gone incredibly well.

At least, that was how it seemed to Castiel. He had been expecting Mick to start asking him about how heaven worked, or something along those lines, as soon as they met up, but on the car ride there, the man had made it clear that he wouldn't ask, and if he did it accidently, Castiel didn't have to answer. And more importantly, Mick had stuck with that rule the entire night, even though it had been very obvious at times that he'd wanted to ask. Mick was a Man of Letters, after all, not like he could help it, Castiel supposed.

Still, it was refreshing that someone was taking an interest in Castiel, and not just in his powers. They talked about how Castiel met the Winchesters and about the Apocalypse, but Mick had steered clear away from talking about what had happened after that, probably having noticed that Castiel hadn't wanted to talk about it, and instead told the angel about how he'd joined the British Men of Letters.

Mick had seemed sad when he'd told Castiel about the school he'd gone to, but Castiel hadn't asked since the man hadn't seemed like he wanted to talk about it. It would have been rude, especially after Mick hadn't made Castiel tell him about a part of his past either.

Mick had ended up paying for both their meals, although Castiel had tried to argue that it wasn't fair. However, he really didn't have a steady income, so he hadn't protested further when Mick had assured him that the Men of Letters' funds would settle the bill.

Then Mick had driven him back to the motel Castiel was staying at for the time being, and before Castiel had managed to collect himself after the brief moment of kissing, he had already agreed to a second date, and then Mick was leaving, smiling at Castiel and telling him they'd figure out the details over the phone.

Castiel watched the car as Mick drove away, a smile on his face. His heart was beating faster than normal and he was shaking slightly, but it wasn't accompanied by the usual set of emotions he was used to. They weren't negative, for one - he was _excited_. And was looking forward to seeing Mick again. _And_ he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Strange.

The next morning Castiel was about to head back to the bunker, seeing as he hadn't seen the brothers in a while, when Dean called him, telling him pretty much the same thing and asking if he wanted to go on a hunt with them. Of course, Castiel accepted the offer.

It had started off well enough. Dean and Sam had even hugged Castiel in greeting before filling him in on the details, which had improved his already good mood even more.

There had been apparently two bodies found with their hearts missing, so it was most likely a werewolf – not something Sam and Dean needed help with, which meant they wanted him there just to be there. That thought warmed Castiel's heart, as he hadn't been too sure where he stood with the brothers lately.

It seemed everything was going well.

Until problems started to arise. The first one was being unable to find the werewolf, even after extensive questioning of the witnesses and searching the town for clues. The second was another person being found dead, also missing their heart, and definitely killed after they had gotten to the town.

The third one was really just a problem for Castiel, although he did see Sam roll his eyes at least once. Dean was insisting Castiel should flirt with the waitress that had been giving the angel suggestive looks the entire time they had been in the diner.

"I'm just sayin', this kinda thing doesn't happen often, so you gotta take an advantage of it," Dean said, taking a bit out of his bacon cheeseburger, and Castiel sighed softly. He wasn't sure which was worse – this, or when he had to watch Dean flirt with others. "I know it happened to you twice in, like, a month, but don't let that fool you."

"As I recall, I almost died the last time this happened," Castiel grumbled, hoping that him saying this would kill the mood. He was still saving 'The only time I had sex resulted in my death, as well' for if the situation worsened even more.

Not to mention that since he had regained his status as an angel, he hadn't been all that interested in sex, but Castiel didn't want to say that, not in front of Dean at least. He wasn't even sure why. It wasn't like this little fact would deter Dean from having a relationship with Castiel. Well, it probably would if Dean were interested, but he wasn't.

Maybe that was the reason. Castiel was still subconsciously hoping that he had a chance with Dean, even though he didn't. If he did, he wouldn't be here, being pressured by him into having meaningless sex with a waitress.

Castiel became even sadder when he realized that Mick would most likely expect sex from him sooner or later. Castiel would have to tell him as soon as possible, so that they could break it off if it was a major problem, which it probably was. That was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

"Earth to Cas," said Dean, nudging the angel, who had only now realized he had zoned out.

"What were you saying?" the angel asked, putting as much disinterest into the question as he could, but given that he was saying this to Dean, that didn't mean much.

"I was saying that a waitress flirting with you and you almost being…y'know, with the spear-"

"Lance," Castiel corrected him, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that, I'm just sayin' it's not connected at all," Dean finished, clearly unwilling to give up, but he did seem a little less enthusiastic about it.

"Just let the poor guy be, Dean," Sam said, munching on his salad. Castiel gave him a grateful look, even though he knew Dean wouldn't stop.

"No. When a hot waitress comes onto you, you don't just throw that away. I'm not letting him do that."

Castiel felt something in him snap. "I don't think it's seen as good-mannered to flirt and sleep with random people when one is in a relationship."

All three of them froze, Sam and Dean staring at Castiel with shock while Castiel did his best to pretend he was interested in the red and white tablecloth on their table.

He'd said it. He'd actually said it. Before Castiel could panic and try to explain himself, Dean scoffed.

"Jesus, Cas, just tell me you're not interested if you want me to leave you alone. No need to lie like that."

All Castiel had to do was stay silent, and both brothers would most likely forget about it. Unfortunately, after hearing Dean say that, the angel was too pissed off to care.

"I did tell you to leave me be, as did Sam, but you didn't listen to either of us," Castiel snapped. "And for your information, I am not lying."

"Oh, really?" Dean said, clearly not believing what Castiel was saying, which made the angel even angrier. "Who's the lucky girl, then? Funny how you never mentioned her."

Castiel's heart clenched painfully, his anger dissipating, and sadness taking its place. Of course Dean assumed it was a woman. Castiel looked at Sam, who seemed sympathetic, but also curious. It was too late to back out of this conversation now. "I assume you remember Mick Davies."

There was a stunned silence for a few seconds, in which Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times. Sam, on the other hand, looked surprised as well, but not in a negative sense. Then his expression changed into one of concern, which he aimed at Dean.

"Mick Davies? The British douchebag?" Dean asked, not bothering to mask his anger, and Castiel bristled.

"He's not a douchebag," Castiel growled. "He's nice to me."

"Oh, I bet he is!" If Castiel didn't know any better, he'd think Dean looked hurt and was masking it with anger, but Castiel did know better. "Come on, Cas, you're smarter than this. He obviously just wants information from you. Why else would he be trying to get in your pants? Those British bastards hate everything supernatural."

Even though Castiel had already thought this on some level, actually hearing someone else say it, much less Dean, hurt more than Castiel wanted to admit. He couldn't keep the hurt expression off his face completely, but managed to hide it under a glare a moment later.

"I am not a child, Dean," Castiel reminded the hunter. "For your information, Mick's made it clear that's not what he is after."

"Of course he would say that!" Dean yelled at Castiel, and shook his head. "Dammit, Cas. First Mom, and now you." Dean paused, but before Castiel could say anything, he spoke again. "Ugh, I need a drink."

With that he got up, leaving his half-eaten burger on the table, and walked out of the diner. Castiel looked guiltily at the now empty seat, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated fighting with Dean, but at least now he didn't have to lie to him anymore.

Castiel heard Sam sigh, but he didn't look up at him until he addressed him. "Cas, you know Dean's just worried about you, right? You know how he is. He sucks at expressing emotions."

"He's been drinking a lot, lately, hasn't he?" Castiel asked sadly, and Sam grimaced.

"We found out Mom's been working with the British Men of Letters recently, and Dean hasn't been handling it well. And after what you just said…well, I don't think he's gonna handle that well, either."

Feeling even guiltier, Castiel looked down, wishing that he could still travel through time so he could stop himself from revealing anything.

"I'm not judging, Cas, but you and Mick? How the hell did _that_ happen?" Castiel gave Sam a tired look in reply. "Look, if you're happy, I'm happy for you. I just always kinda assumed you and Dean had a thing going."

Castiel averted his gaze, and Sam seemed to take the hint and stopped talking about it. "Okay, we still need to finish this hunt, and no offense, Cas, but maybe you should let me and Dean take this one. Let Dean cool off for a bit, y'know?"

Castiel knew Sam didn't mean anything by this, but a terrible feeling of loneliness invaded the angel's heart anyway. Sam was right, though – if Castiel stayed, he and Dean would just yell at each other some more, and more people would die, so the angel just nodded and left the diner silently, walking to his truck with his head hung low.

His only function on this hunt had been to hang out with the brothers, and he had utterly failed at even that.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel had tried to apologize to Dean a few days after the incident in the diner, but Dean just asked whether he and Mick had broken up yet, and when Castiel said that they didn't, Dean told him to go back to his boyfriend with so much venom that the angel couldn't make himself snap something back at the hunter before Dean walked away, presumably to get a drink again.

Castiel made a mental note to heal Dean's liver the next time he saw him, seeing as at the moment he was too angry and hurt to do so, and left the bunker without even trying to find Sam and see how he was doing.

Castiel sighed, looking back at the metal door. The bunker hadn't really felt like a home to him lately, but now he felt straight-up unwelcomed. Clearly his presence wasn't making anything better, and Castiel wouldn't stay somewhere where he wasn't wanted. He would rather be alone than having to face Dean's angry eyes on a daily basis.

He climbed into his truck and let his forehead rest on the steering wheel for a moment. He felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his coat, and he wouldn't have bothered checking it if it continued, but it didn't. Which meant that he had gotten a text, which wasn't all that usual.

With a groan he separated himself from the steering wheel and checked his phone. And, as expected, it was a text from Mick.

' _Fancy a coffee? :)_ ' it said, and Castiel stared at it, feeling rather conflicted. He wanted to go because of how much better talking with the other man had made him feel before, but it would make Dean even angrier.

Or maybe it wouldn't. Castiel hadn't given Dean any details concerning his relationship with Mick, not even that it was very new. Who knew what Dean was already assuming about them?

Castiel mentally berated himself when he realized what he was doing. He didn't need Dean's approval. Dean had never certainly cared if he had Castiel's, so why should he care?

With that in mind, Castiel started typing out his reply. ' _Of course. Where shall we meet?_ '

It turned out that Mick was in a coffee shot about an hour away from the bunker, which was good, but it made the angel a little suspicious. How could the man had known to invite him to have coffee with him without asking where Castiel was? He could have been on the other side of the US right now, and without the ability to fly, there would be no way to get to the coffee shop in time.

Castiel rolled his shoulders as the reminder that he couldn't fly somehow made his wings feel even more itchy. After the Lance of Michael had been broken, some of his feathers had started growing back, which would be a good thing, but given that his wings were too broken to fly anyway, it was just a nuisance. He would have to groom them as much as he could soon. It would be best if someone else could do it, but Castiel didn't want to bother the Winchesters with this, especially now.

When he arrived at the coffee shot, he found Mick easily, mostly because he was typing on an old-timey typewriter, and there weren't that many people here. It was rather late for coffee, Castiel supposed, and went over to Mick, who smiled at the angel as he approached.

"Hullo, Castiel," the man said. "I'm almost done with my report. It should just be a few more minutes. Do you mind if I finish it?"

"Of course not," Castiel replied, sitting down opposite Mick, feeling slightly awkward. Every time he looked at the man, he remembered what Dean had said. Particularly the part about Mick trying to get the angel to trust him just to gain information.

"We can talk, if you want," Mick said, looking at Castiel over the typewriter with slight amusement without pausing his rapid typing. "I'm quite good at multitasking."

Castiel considered this, and then decided to ask the question that had been bothering him the whole trip here. "How did you know I was in the area?"

Mick froze for a second before resuming his work. "You live in the Men of Letters' bunker here in Kansas, correct? So, I assumed that was where you were."

Pain shot through Castiel's heart, and he looked down at his hands on the table. "I…I don't actually live there. I just sometimes stay there." The room Sam and Dean had given him wasn't even _his_ room. It was really just a guest room. It was silly that this bothered Castiel – he didn't even need to sleep and he had no possessions to put in a room – but it still hurt to think about it.

"Really?" Mick seemed surprised by this, enough to stop writing at least. "I was under the impression that…nevermind." He finished writing the report while Castiel bought himself a cup of coffee. He didn't really feel like drinking it, but it would give him something to do besides staring down at his hands.

When Mick was done, he closed the case the typewriter was in, put it on the seat next to him, and gave Castiel a searching look. "Something's bothering you."

Castiel sighed. He supposed Mick should know Castiel had told Dean about them. At least the man would be prepared for when Dean decided to yell at him too.

"I had a fight with Dean," Castiel replied, sighing once again, and Mick raised his own cup of coffee to his lips.

"What about?"

"You." As soon as Castiel said this, he realized how blunt it sounded, but Mick didn't seem at all surprised, or disconcerted by this. He just sipped his coffee, nodding his head slightly.

"Yeah, I can imagine why this, um, _situation_ wouldn't be to his liking." Mick paused. "I'm sure he'll get over it soon. But if you'd like to break this off-"

"No!" The idea of losing someone who was actually interested in Castiel as a person was so terrible that he couldn't even let Mick finish the sentence. "I don't want that."

Mick smiled and put his left hand over Castiel's. Castiel swore his heart stopped for a few seconds, but he smiled back at the man, even though he felt nervous, and he was sure it showed on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me Mary Winchester joined you?" Castiel asked, immediately regretting it, assuming he had just killed the mood, but Mick didn't seem to mind as he shrugged.

"I assumed you knew. Honestly, I can't believe the Winchesters didn't tell you." Mick actually sounded offended when he said this.

"It's not their fault. They just always have a lot to deal with. I'm sure they just forgot," Castiel defended them, and Mick raised an eyebrow, taking Castiel's hand into his own comfortingly.

"Why are you so quick to defend them?"

"They're my friends…"

Mick didn't say anything, but it was clear he didn't agree. Nevertheless, he squeezed Castiel's hand more, which the angel didn't mind at all, and took another sip of his coffee.

"Y'know, we really could use your help. I haven't had the best of luck trying to get the American hunters to help us."

Castiel frowned, looking at Mick with confusion. "But…I'm not a hunter."

"Doesn't matter, you have a weapon that can kill most monsters. There's not a lot of actual hunting involved. We'd do all the research, you'd just go where we tell you and kill whatever monster lives there." Well, that didn't sound that difficult. But Castiel had some concerns. "We're trying to get rid of all vampires in America right now. After that, we'll move on to werewolves, probably."

Castiel wasn't certain that was possible, but what did he know? The British Men of Letters had technology he'd never seen before. Who knew what else they had at their disposal?

"I'm not human."

"So? You're not a danger to society," Mick said jokingly. "Hell, far as I know, it's probably a good thing you're an angel. At least I won't have to worry about something eating you." He chuckled softly, and a second later his smile disappeared. "That is, if you accept, of course. I know we haven't met under the best circumstances. And I'm not trying to pressure you into anything."

Castiel nodded slowly. "I'll think about it."

Mick grinned and leaned over the table, kissing Castiel, who happily responded.

The next few weeks went about the same way. Castiel kept trying to look for Kelly, while looking for random hunts he thought he could handle, while sending the more challenging ones to Sam, but only in text messages. He also helped Mary a few times on the assignments she'd received from the British Men of Letters, but he hadn't agreed to work with them full time yet.

Sam had called him a few times, but Castiel didn't feel like picking up the phone. Castiel knew what the hunter wanted to tell him, anyway – something along the lines of the brothers missing him and wanting him to come by, but Castiel knew better. Dean was still pissed at him, that much was clear. If he wasn't, he would have called the angel by now.

Strangely though, Castiel didn't care as much as he probably should. He was more angry about Dean's behavior than hurt by it, so he didn't try fixing anything. For once, he wouldn't go beg for forgiveness, only to be ignored by Dean anyway, especially since he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Which brought him back to the problem at hand. Mick had suggested they go to a bar, which Castiel would have no problems with if not for the fact that his wings itched and hurt to the point that he couldn't stay still. And he was also angry and miserable.

In other words, he just wanted to lie down and scratch his wings for a few months until this annoying process was over. He couldn't do that, of course, so the best he could do was try to groom his wings a little so they would be at least bearable.

Castiel sat down on the bed of the motel room he was staying at and with a sigh shrugged off his coat and suit jacket, and untied his tie, putting them on a neat pile next to him. He started unbuttoning his shirt, but halfway through he stopped, deciding that he didn't need to take his shirt off for this, and just pulled the shirt off his shoulders, which would be enough to avoid the shirt being torn apart by his wings.

He groaned as he let his wings materialize and fill most of the room. Castiel stretched them out, wincing as a few feathers fell out, and started running his fingers through the feathers of his right wing, trying to straighten them as much as he could while helping the old ones that still remained fall out.

He managed to stick with this for almost a minute before he couldn't help himself and started scratching the wing mindlessly, which only made it hurt more, but Castiel couldn't stop himself. He didn't even notice that there was a knock on door, or that the door swung open, not until there was a gasp.

Castiel hid the wings immediately, looking with shock at Mick, who was staring back with the exact same expression. However, Mick's shock quickly turned to concern mixed with fascination, while Castiel's changed into mortification and fear.

"What's wrong with your wings?" Mick asked, and Castiel couldn't help but feel a little annoyed by the question. Did he really need to spell it out to the man? They were malformed, broken, ugly… Honestly it was easier to list what wasn't wrong with them. "Do they hurt?"

Castiel looked down, pulling his shirt back up. "They itch mostly. My feathers are growing back. Why are you here?"

Mick seemed a little taken aback by the abruptness. "Well, you told me where you were staying, so I thought I'd come pick you up." He took a few steps towards Castiel, who lifted his head. "What can I do to help you?"

Castiel grimaced. "My wings…need to be groomed. But I can't reach…" He trailed off.

"That all?" Mick asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why haven't you asked me to help you?"

Castiel's eyes widened. "You mean…you would willingly touch them?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"They are _abhorrent_."

Mick just shook his head at Castiel sadly and offered him his hand, which Castiel took and was pulled up to his feet. "I admit I haven't seen them for long enough to study them closely, but they are nowhere near 'abhorrent', Cas."

"If you knew what they looked like before…" Castiel muttered sadly as he was led across the room to a chair, on which Mick sat down and pulled Castiel down into a kiss, making the angel basically straddle his waist. Castiel let out a surprised noise, which was muffled by the kiss, but kissed Mick back, hugging the other man's neck.

When they separated, Castiel felt breathless, even though he technically didn't need to breathe, and stared in Mick's smiling eyes.

"Show them to me, love," Mick said, running a hand through Castiel's hair. The angel didn't have the energy to protest. The other man had already seen his ruined wings anyway, so what was there to lose? Especially if Mick was willing to help him straighten his feathers.

Castiel let Mick pull his shirt off his shoulders again and manifested the wings. He kept them half folded, as if that would somehow hide them from the British man's fascinated gaze, and looked anywhere but at Mick.

"Amazing," the man said, and ran a hand over the edge of Castiel's left wing, making the angel shudder and close his eyes. Mick immediately withdrew his hand, looking at Castiel with worry. "I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, no," Castiel assured him, opening his eyes slowly. "I just haven't had my wings touched by another being in a long time. It's a very nice feeling. Very relaxing."

Mick smirked and buried his fingers in the feathers. Castiel hummed happily, wrapping his wings around Mick and the chair to give the man better access. Mick took full advantage of this and started stroking both of the wings at the same time while Castiel leaned in to kiss him.

"This is amazing," said Mick excitedly as he continued combing his fingers through the inky feathers. "I mean, I read about angel wings, studied them, even used some feathers in spells, but to actually touch them like this…"

Castiel just hummed without moving from where he was, slowly falling asleep with his face buried in Mick's shoulder. "Uh, Cas, I think you should lie down. I can groom your wings better like that, as well."

Castiel sat up with a groan, blinking owlishly at Mick, who was grinning at the angel.

"You look really adorable when you're sleepy," he commented, and Castiel yawned, blushing slightly.

"I apologize. I-" Castiel started, but Mick interrupted him.

"It's alright, love. Just, uh, I don't think I'd be able to carry you to the bed if you fall asleep on me, especially not with the wings."

Castiel nodded, yawning again, and got up, pulling his wings as closely to his body as he could in order not to break something, or knock something over, and stumbled over to the bed, kicking off his shoes and all but falling on it.

Castiel stretched out his wings and hugged the pillow closer to him, sighing happily as Mick started stroking his wings again, sitting down on the bed next to the angel.

"So, what exactly should I do?" Mick asked, not stopping what he was doing.

"Just try to pull out any loose feathers and straighten the ones that look bent," Castiel mumbled into the pillow, and then hissed as pain shot through his wing.

"Are…are you bleeding?" asked Mick, and Castiel sighed angrily. He must have ripped out some feather when he'd started scratching himself. "I'll have to pull these out, too, won't I?"

Castiel hummed in agreement, steeling himself for the pain that was about to come, but Mick took such care in removing the half-ripped out feather that it was quite manageable. Once he was done with that and started running his fingers through Castiel's wings again, the angel didn't stand a chance and fell asleep within minutes.

Mick continued removing the old feathers until he was sure he got most of them, smiling down at Castiel softly. He didn't understand why the angel thought his wings were ugly. They were beautiful – a bit different since they were black and not white, like they should be, and most likely not as beautiful as they once were, but they were still gorgeous.

"As entertaining as that was," said Ketch as he walked into the motel room, "do close the blinds next time you have fun with your angel on the ground floor."

Mick gritted his teeth, even more annoyed that Ketch was right. "Why are you here?"

"I was tasked with making sure you did your job," Ketch replied coldly and pulled out his phone. "Also, I managed to take a picture." Mick stared at the photo, which showed him and Castiel kissing on the chair with the angel's wings around them. It was moments like this when Mick wanted to punch Ketch, but given how useless he was in a fight, he had resist. "I'm sure Dean will like it."

"We are supposed to get them on our side. I don't think this will help," Mick replied sarcastically as he pulled a plastic zipper bag from his pocket and went about collecting the fallen feathers and putting them into it.

"It will lessen the danger of the angel going back to the Winchesters, or is that not what you want?" Ketch said, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, the halo will soon be working for us if you do your job. We don't need the Winchesters. Now, are you going to take the grace or not?"

Mick just settled for a glare, and looked guiltily at Castiel before taking out the two syringes from his suit jacket pocket and put the bag with the feathers on the bed.

"Sorry, Cas," he muttered to the angel, and carefully inserted the needle of the syringe containing a special sedative into Castiel's neck. Mick stroked the angel's hair as he felt him stir momentarily, and then Castiel stilled again. Now he wouldn't wake up for several hours at least.

Then he picked up the second syringe meant for grace extraction. At least like this, Castiel wouldn't feel it, otherwise this would be agony for the angel. Mick inserted it roughly in the same place the previous syringe had been, but he had to push this one deeper.

Mick cringed as he pushed it in further and further until he was sure he'd reached Castiel's grace. Thankfully the angel didn't move a muscle. He started slowly pulling out the plunger, watching as bright blue grace started to fill it. When there was about a centimeter of it, Mick pulled out the needle, and handed both the grace and feathers to Ketch.

"Ah, yes, this should make our research team happy," Ketch said, rolling his eyes, pocketing both items. "Now, I think you have some reports to write."

Mick glared at the other man again, before looking at the sleeping angel regretfully. He quickly scribbled down a message explaining his absence, and left the room, feeling like downing a whole bottle of whiskey right now.


	4. Chapter 4

**A big thank you to everyone for following/favoriting/reviewing. I wanted to say this on the last chapter and kind of forgot :)**

* * *

That week, Castiel was sure that enough time had passed and decided to call Dean. Sam had texted him that Dean had already gone through all of their liquor, and Castiel hated that he was the reason behind it (well, him and Mary, but still). He wasn't going to apologize – he'd done nothing wrong – but Castiel felt he should at least try and make up with Dean. He missed talking to the hunter, even if it was usually about a case.

The problem was that Dean didn't seem to be in the same forgiving, hopeful mood.

" _You showed him your wings?!_ " was the first thing Dean said as soon as he picked up the phone. He sounded so… _betrayed_ , as if Castiel had broken some fundamental rule between them, and just like that, the angel was angry again. Angry enough that he didn't even question how it was possible that Dean knew this.

"Yes," Castiel said curtly. "What I do with Mick isn't any of your business."

" _Trust me, I do_ not _want to know about what you do together_ ," Dean shot back, sounding rather disgusted, and Castiel felt his eyes start to sting. Why was he still in love with this man? Sometimes he really hated that he could feel emotions. " _I didn't even know you could show them like that, much less let that limey grope them_."

"You know what, Dean? I don't need this. I thought we could at least try to act civil to one another, but I guess not. Goodbye, Dean."

Castiel hung up, swallowing heavily, and blinking away the tears that had welled up in his eyes. At least this made Castiel's decision about helping the British Men of Letters much clearer. Dean would be mad at him all the same, so why not do something useful, and help Mick kill a few vampires?

At first everything seemed to be okay. Working for the British Men of Letters wasn't nearly as stressful as trying to save the world with Sam and Dean. Not to say that they had stopped looking for Kelly Kline, but it was nice having a mission besides that one.

Basically, Castiel was told where to go and what target to take out, and he did so. And he felt like he was making a difference, which was refreshing. Usually, it seemed like every time he tried to fix something, he broke something else, but since he was receiving orders now, if something went wrong it most likely wouldn't be Castiel's fault. It felt similar to how Heaven was run, but Castiel didn't like thinking about that too much.

Plus, he got to spend more time with Mick and Mary. The latter had even apologized to him for blaming for Sam and Dean being imprisoned. Castiel wasn't sure that he deserved an apology for that, or that Mary hadn't said it just to alleviate her guilt, but the thought was nice regardless.

The only thing Castiel didn't enjoy (hated would be a better word) was having to work with Ketch. It didn't happen often – Mick had assured Castiel that he would try to send the angel on as many solo missions as he could – but when Ketch needed backup and Mary wasn't available, there was no avoiding it.

Like right now.

Ketch had suggested- well, no, not suggested – _said_ that they should split up when they reached the abandoned house the vampires were supposed to live in, and did so without even bothering to wait if Castiel agreed or not, which was how Castiel ended up with a knife in his back and side, and almost his own blade through his heart when ten vampires attacked him at once.

But before Ketch came and killed the remaining five vampires, one of them said something the angel couldn't get out of his head.

 _Why are you doing this? We drink animal blood. We never hurt anyone._

"You're welcome," Ketch said, clearly amused that Castiel was bleeding out on the floor. Castiel settled for a glare in reply, and pulled the knife out of his back with a pained gasp. "I suggest you heal that before your usefulness is put into question."

Castiel wanted to tell him to fuck off, but then he started coughing up blood and before he managed to heal his punctured lung, Ketch was gone.

Castiel got up shakily and picked up his blade off the floor. He needed to talk to Mick.

On the way, Castiel checked if there were any deaths or disappearances caused by vampires in the town he had just left, coming up with nothing, which made Castiel certain that the vampire hadn't been lying when he said they hadn't killed anyone. As soon as he got to the British Men of Letters' base, Castiel headed to Mick's office. The man smiled at Castiel at first, but when he noticed his angry expression, his smile fell.

"That nest you sent me and Ketch to clear was harmless," Castiel growled, putting his hands down on the table, and Mick frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Those vampires weren't hurting anyone," Castiel said, glaring even more. However, Mick still didn't seem to get at all what the angel's problem was.

"They were vampires. Just because they haven't killed people yet doesn't mean they won't," Mick replied and got up. "We can't move forward if we don't do our jobs properly. Besides, the Code is quite clear about this."

"Then why am I still alive?" Castiel asked quietly. Mick suddenly looked horrified and opened his mouth to protest, but Castiel beat him to it. "I fall into that category perfectly. I'm not human, and I've hurt so many people already. Just because I'm not doing that now doesn't mean it's not possible in the future. So why haven't I been dealt with, yet?"

Mick just stared at him with his mouth slightly open, clearly not sure what to say. "You're not a monster."

"I'm close enough," Castiel said, not feeling up to continuing the conversation anymore. "It's because I'm useful, isn't it?"

He needed time to think, so he turned around and left, ignoring Mick telling him to wait. Mick sat down again, burying his head in his hands. "It's because I love you," he muttered to himself, knowing that Castiel was too far to hear it.

Castiel spent the rest of the day driving around randomly, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Mick hadn't tried contacting him, which was a bit surprising, but since they didn't really have much else to talk about, Castiel supposed it made sense.

However, just as he was about to stop at a motel for the night, he got a text message from him. Castiel would have probably not responded to it, but once he read it, he couldn't force himself to ignore it.

Mick was asking him to meet him in a diner just a few miles away from where Castiel was, promising that he'd explain everything. Castiel sighed and turned the truck around, arriving at the diner about twenty minutes later.

He climbed out of the truck, putting his hands in his pockets as he headed towards the light of the diner, when there was a sudden sharp pain in his neck. Castiel gasped in surprise, touching his neck and pulling out a small dart. He tried to turn around to try and find whoever shot him when his head started spinning and before he knew it he ended up falling to his knees on the asphalt.

A hand gripped his hair and yanked his head back, forcing Castiel to look up at none other than Ketch.

"Wha…" was all Castiel could manage with his mind shutting down from whatever Ketch had injected him with. Why was Ketch doing this?

"Guess what angel – you just officially became more trouble than you're worth."

Castiel put up a weak fight as Ketch pulled his arms behind his back and cuffed them together with Enochian handcuffs, and the last thing he remembered was a black bag being put over his head before he lost consciousness.

There was a loud banging on the door of the bunker, which made Dean look up from his glass of whiskey. He really wanted to ignore it, but seeing as Sam was in his room, someone knocking on their door happened so rarely that Dean decided against it. It was also after midnight, which was even weirder.

He strolled towards the door, not bothering to speed up even when the person on the other side banged the door again. Dean swung it open with a tired sigh, and he could swear he felt his blood pressure spike as soon as he saw who it was.

"The fuck do _you_ want?" Dean snarled at Mick, who looked almost as pissed off as Dean felt.

"I need your help to save Cas." And just like that, Dean's anger disappeared, replaced shock and concern.


	5. Chapter 5

**Just one more chapter to go :)**

* * *

Castiel groaned as he woke up, finding it very hard to open his eyes. His head hurt so much he was half convinced he'd drunk another liquor store. Suddenly he was backhanded with so much force his lower lip started bleeding, and he yelped and choked, finally opening his eyes.

"Wakey wakey, angel," Ketch sneered at him, and finally everything came back to Castiel.

"What are you doing?" the angel snarled at Ketch, assessing his situation. He was in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse chained to a metal pipe, or a pillar, he couldn't really tell, with his hands pulled around it behind him and held in place by the warded cuffs, while his ankles, legs, and neck were tied to the pillar by a chain tightly. He could barely move his head without cutting off his air supply. He wasn't sure if that was life threatening or not with those cuffs, but Castiel did know that he didn't like it.

Oh, and he was shirtless, which Castiel liked even less, especially since Ketch was standing in front of him, playing with a knife.

"Well, our original orders have changed slightly. I am now supposed to extract all the information I can from you, and then attempt to reprogram you. And kill you if that doesn't work, of course."

Original orders? What original orders? What was he talking about?

"Oh, yes, I forgot you still haven't put it together," Ketch said in one of the most condescending tones Castiel had ever heard. "We were supposed to convince you to join us. You didn't actually think a Men of Letters' operative would be interested in, or even allowed to pursue, a relationship with an angel. Much less one such as yourself."

Castiel could only look at the other man dumbly as he tried to process what he'd just been told. Mick had only been interested in him because Castiel was useful to the British Men of Letters? Castiel had assumed that was why he hadn't been killed yet, but he'd never thought his relationship with Mick had existed only to manipulate him.

And Dean had said the exact same thing to him as soon as Castiel had mentioned he and Mick were dating. They had been angry with each other for almost two months, and the whole time Castiel had been sure Dean was the one who was wrong, when in fact it had been the angel all along.

Castiel was glad Dean didn't want him. He didn't deserve the hunter.

How stupid was Castiel, anyway? How could he had believed Mick so easily when the man had told him he was interested in him? Castiel should have learned by now that others didn't like him for his personality, or at least that wasn't a priority – his powers were. And that was how it would stay. After so many years, he should have realized that by now – the problem lied clearly within him, not the people around him.

"I read some of the reports. Apparently it was incredibly easy to convince you," Ketch taunted him, and Castiel tried his hardest not to break down and cry.

"I-if the mission was such a success, why am I here?" Castiel asked, putting as much anger into the question as he could manage right now.

"Well, it had an unfortunate downside. Mick actually developed feelings for you," Ketch said, and Castiel bristled at how mockingly he'd said the other man's name. And then he felt incredibly pathetic because he wanted to defend a man who'd played with his emotions and manipulated him. "He was starting to question our way of doing things. After I overheard your exchange earlier today –no, excuse me, it's actually yesterday now – I knew it was time to act. Hopefully with you out of the way, he'll focus on our mission here, again. And if not, I suppose we'll have to replace him."

Castiel didn't say anything, although the thought of Mick dying wasn't one he wanted to contemplate. Even though their relationship had been a lie, Castiel still cared about him, and according to Ketch, Mick cared about the angel as well. That didn't mean Castiel forgave him, but it also meant that he didn't want Mick to die.

"Now, I think I've talked for long enough-"

"That's something we can both agree on," Castiel muttered.

"-so now it's your turn. Who is currently in charge of Heaven?"

Castiel just closed his eyes, ignoring the question, and waiting for the inevitable moment when Ketch would cut or stab him with the knife in his hand. He wasn't even sure he knew the answer at this point. He hadn't had much contact with the other angels for a while.

"Have it your way."

Ketch made a shallow cut on Castiel's stomach who let out a shocked scream. A cut that small shouldn't have been so painful. It was almost as bad as Heaven's reeducation. Castiel stared at Ketch, panting, unable to hide his surprise.

"Like it, halo?" Ketch asked, showing off the knife, which was now stained with blood. "It's enchanted with Enochian sigils which are meant to cause you pain, but none of them are enough to approach the danger of actually killing you. Let's see how long you can last."

With that Ketch buried the knife in Castiel's abdomen, forcing another agonized scream out of the angel.

"Let me get this straight," Sam said, rubbing his eyes. "You pretended to like Cas to convince him to join you?"

Dean's hand tightened around his cup of coffee, almost expecting it to break. He would have preferred alcohol, but Cas was in trouble, so Dean had to stay focused. He wanted to punch Mick a few times at least, but he couldn't do that either if he wanted to find out what he knew.

"I was ordered to get him on our side, yes," Mick said, sounding guilty and regretful, and Dean wanted to punch him even more. "He was…so desperate for someone to love him that he believed me. I wish he hadn't."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaimed. "Cas is loved. By us." He gestured to himself and Sam, expecting him to agree, but instead Sam frowned as he thought it over. "Right?"

Sam looked at him and shrugged guiltily. "I do love Cas like a brother, but…" Sam sighed. "Sometimes we don't do the best job of showing it."

"Yes, and the way you've been letting your jealousy control you lately didn't help either," Mick added, and Dean bristled.

"I was _not_ jealous. I just didn't want him anywhere near you assholes."

"Then why have you made peace with your mother working for us?" Mick replied and shook his head in frustration. "How can you not see this? The plan wouldn't have been nearly as successful if you hadn't treated Castiel the way you had. Why do you think Ketch sent you that photo? The more alienated Cas felt from you, the more likely he was to join us."

Dean glowered at Mick, while thought it over. He had known he felt something for Castiel for years now, but he'd never let himself think he could actually have him, or so he'd thought. But once he'd learned that Castiel was seeing someone, he only then fully realized that he really couldn't have him anymore, that he'd waited too long. And so he'd been taking out his anger and frustration on poor Castiel, who'd done nothing wrong, and only got used again.

Dean fought the urge to hit Mick repeatedly again.

"Cas is in love with you, and you are clearly in love with Cas," Mick said, sounding pissed off again. "So do everyone a favor, and tell him that after we save him."

There was a moment of stunned silence, before Sam cleared his throat. "Um, right, so where did Ketch take him?"

"A warehouse on the other side of Kansas."

"And how exactly do you know this?" Dean asked, unable to stop himself from feeling suspicious. This could still be a trap. Not that Dean cared that much. If Castiel was in trouble, he'd come save him anyway every time.

Mick scratched the back of his neck. "I, um, may have put a tracking chip on Cas."

"Wow, classy," Dean commented sarcastically, and then waved his hand dismissively. At least they knew where Castiel was. "Whatever, let's go save my angel."

Castiel let out a sob as Ketch started carving another sigil into his abdomen. It was clear what the man was trying to do – force the angel to manifest his wings so he could cut into them. And he was only a sigil or two away from reaching that goal.

After the first hour, Ketch had stopped asking questions and instead started focusing on breaking Castiel. And the angel wasn't completely sure he'd be able to hold on for much longer, especially once Ketch started hurting his wings. They were sensitive enough that even just the bone being squeezed hurt, much less being cut by the knife Ketch was using.

To make things worse, Ketch had injected him with hellhound saliva. Castiel had no idea where the man had gotten it, but he knew the effect it had on angels very well.

Castiel's veins felt like they were on fire, and he was running a high fever right now, which was the first stage. Soon he was going to start hallucinating, and Castiel was terrified. Whatever he was going to see, he knew he wouldn't like it. He'd already gotten a few ideas, and he really hoped he was wrong.

"There," said Ketch, and Castiel threw his head back, hitting the pipe, screaming as his wings were forced out, tearing the skin of his back and spraying blood everywhere. Castiel spent a moment panting while trying to get the pain under control.

"Messy," commented Ketch, and Castiel made a move to hit him with a wing, but Ketch caught it easily and twisted it, making the angel scream again. "Now, now, angel, be a good boy."

The voice that said this didn't sound like Ketch. Castiel looked at where the man was chaining his wings to the pipe as well, and he whimpered, a tear making its way down his face.

Dean was looking back at him with a sadistic smile as he tightened the chains, making his wings immobile. This was so much worse than Castiel had imagined his hallucinations to be. He'd thought he'd have to listen to Dean tell him how much he hated him, or how disappointed he was in him – things like that. He'd never thought he'd hallucinate Dean in Ketch's place.

"I see the saliva is working beautifully," Dean-no, _Ketch_ said, and Castiel shut his eyes, feeling something inside of him break. "Don't worry, little angel," Dean's voice said, a hand combing through the feathers of his right wing, "there's no way I can ruin these _things_ more than they already are."

And with that the hand gripped the feathers and pulled, ripping them out, and making Castiel scream some more.

Slowly but surely Castiel started having problems figuring out what was real and what wasn't. It got harder and harder to keep in mind that Dean wasn't the one stabbing a knife through his wing, and that the shadows moving around him and noises behind him weren't actually there.

It got even worse when Sam appeared, watching Castiel with utter disinterest from a few feet away from the angel. "You deserve this, you know right? You've betrayed us so many times. If you weren't useful, we'd have gotten rid of you by now."

Castiel screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head in desperate denial.

"He's right, Cas," Dean said, continuing to carve into the meat of Castiel's wing, forcing small cries out of the angel. "Why do you think I kicked you out as soon as you got to the bunker, human and useless? You were a burden, and I didn't want you around." Dean laughed slightly. "I mean, you still are kind of a burden, but you're useful sometimes, so I let it slide."

"No," Castiel whimpered. "Y-you said it was because Sam was-"

"Yeah, I lied because I felt guilty. And I didn't want to risk losing one of the most powerful weapons in our arsenal," Dean replied, ripping out more feathers and throwing them carelessly on the ground.

Honestly, what had been said hurt more.

"But you haven't been really loyal to us lately, have you?" Sam asked, folding his arms over his chest. Right on cue, Mick appeared, looking at Castiel with so much disgust, that the angel couldn't look anymore. He hung his head and closed his eyes trying to block everything out, but he couldn't, no matter how much he tried. He could still hear everything.

"I'm sure you've wondered why I never approached the subject of us sleeping together," Mick said with chuckle. "Let's just say kissing you was bad enough."

Tears fell from Castiel's eyes as he continued shaking his head.

"You really think I'd be interested in you? I'm Dean Winchester. Why would I want a broken, pathetic angel?"

"Our lives were so much better before you showed up."

"You were right – you _are_ a monster, Castiel."

"I wish we never met you."

"If I knew I'd get stuck with you, I would have rather stayed in hell."

"We've shown you so many times we don't want you around when you're not needed – do we really need to spell it out for you?"

"Y'know, I kept assuming that you're naïve, but I'm starting to think you're really just stupid."

"You know why I don't call you just to ask how you're doing? Because I don't care."

"Charlie was so much more family to us than you, and now she'd dead. Because of you!"

"You're just a tool, Castiel, a hammer. That's all you'll ever be."

"N-no, I-I'm s-sorry. Please…" Castiel sobbed out, unable to hold his emotions under the verbal onslaught anymore. The voices started overlapping each other, Castiel couldn't even tell what they were saying anymore, but somehow they made the angel cry harder. "'m s-sorry…"

Castiel felt himself slipping – he couldn't even feel Dean's knife anymore. The voices started echoing. Maybe he was finally dying. Castiel tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't manage it. A bitter smile made its way onto his tear-covered face as he finally lost consciousness.

Finally…


	6. Chapter 6

**And that's it. Hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)**

* * *

Mick had told them that he had to be the one to kill Ketch because of the Men of Letters' Code. Apparently he'd soon be killed for betraying them, so it wouldn't matter if he killed Ketch.

Dean didn't care, though. He wanted to shoot the man himself, and that was what he'd been planning on doing after they'd split up, so they each could enter the warehouse from different entrances. However, once he actually saw Castiel, he'd almost dropped his gun.

The angel's body was cut up everywhere, his wings were missing about half of their feathers, which were now covering the floor, and he was crying. Ketch was nowhere in sight, so Dean lowered his weapon and started making his way towards Castiel as fast as he could when something collided with the back of his head.

Dean found himself lying on the floor, trying to get rid of dizziness, while Ketch looked down at him, unimpressed as he played with a bloodstained knife, no doubt having used it on Castiel.

"Here to save your pet, are we?" Ketch mocked him. "I get why you keep it around. It's such a fun little toy."

Dean gritted his teeth and made an attempt at getting up, but only received a kick to the stomach for his efforts. Ketch crouched down next to him, gripping Dean's throat and making him choke. Dean struggled against the hold, trying his hardest to pull the arm away, but Ketch was undeterred, continuing to strangle the hunter.

Just as Dean thought he was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, a bang sounded through the warehouse, and Dean was finally able to breathe again. He gasped, coughing as he pushed Ketch's dead body off of himself, and got up.

"You okay, Dean?" asked Sam, and Dean nodded, running to Castiel as soon as he could.

"Hey, Cas, it's over. I'm here," Dean said as soothingly as he could manage, putting one hand on the right side of the angel's head, and using the other to stroke his hair. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Castiel was even aware of Dean's presence – he didn't even open his eyes. He just kept muttering apologies while sobbing softly. Dean felt his eyes start to sting at the sight, and he quickly turned to Sam and Mick, who still looked shocked that he'd killed Ketch.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I can't be sure," Mick started, looking sadly at the angel, "but I think Ketch injected him with hellhound saliva. It makes angels hallucinate their personal nightmares. We've used it before during interrogations…"

"Okay, so what do we do?" Sam asked, incredibly worried.

"Just let it run its course."

"What? Are you saying we just let him suffer like this?" Dean growled, wincing as Castiel let out a slightly louder sob.

"Well, we could…sedate him, I suppose," Mick said, but he sure didn't sound happy about it. "Ketch will have something like that here, definitely. Castiel would then sleep through the worst of it."

Dean looked back at Castiel, swallowing as the angel kept apologizing to no one. He wondered what he was seeing. Or, well, hearing, since he kept his eyes closed. Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know, though. "Okay, do it."

Mick nodded and went to the table Ketch had used to put various torture devices on. The mere sight of it made Dean want to shook the man again. Dean kept stroking the angel's hair, in the meantime. He didn't know if it had any effect, but he couldn't just let the poor guy suffer.

A moment later, Mick came back holding a small metal dart, which he then carried over to Castiel, and with a silent nod from Dean he pushed it into Castiel's neck. In just a few seconds the angel stilled, and his breathing slowed. Dean wiped away the angel's tears and started unchaining him from the pipe he was held up against, starting with the wings.

The damage looked even worse from up close. There were just large patches of feathers missing, and instead there were bloody holes in the skin of the wings, and the remaining feather had so much blood on them that Dean felt like he was going to be sick.

"How did Ketch make him show his wings?" Dean asked through gritted teeth.

"The sigils," Mick replied. Dean swallowed. That meant he would have to cut into Castiel more if he wanted to stop them from working. He shuddered a little at the thought, and continued untying Castiel. Fortunately, once he reached the cuffs, and picked them open, the wings disappeared as the sigils started to heal and close, but Castiel was still bleeding, and it seemed he had a fever.

Once Castiel was finally free of the chains, Dean picked him up carefully and carried him to the Impala, trying very hard to ignore how much the angel was shivering, and the blood that was soaking into Dean's jacket. Where the wings had been were two gaping holes. They were at least starting to close, but that didn't make looking at them any easier.

Dean slowly lay Castiel down on the backseat, putting a blanket over him. His mind had finally cleared enough to realize that a lot of this was his fault – or maybe all of it. If he had just told Castiel how he felt, Castiel wouldn't have had to go through so much pain. He would have to try and make it up to the angel, which wouldn't be easy because if anything Dean now felt even less deserving of Castiel's love, but given that that was the exact reason the angel had gotten into this mess, there was no way Dean would continue to pretend.

That is, if Castiel was even interested in having a relationship with Dean at this point.

"I can drive, if you want," said Sam, giving a pointed look in Castiel's direction. Dean automatically wanted to protest, but then he nodded and threw his brother the keys. He was about to climb into the backseat next to Castiel, but stopped when Mick spoke.

"Um, so, I'd better disappear before someone gets here and tries to kill you as well."

He looked like he was trying very hard not to panic. Dean wanted to tell him that he could hide out with them in the bunker before he realized that the Brits had a key. They should probably stay away from the bunker for a while, too, in case the Men of Letters were looking for Castiel.

"Tell him I'm sorry about everything, and…" Mick shook his head. "Well, anyway…" He started walking towards Ketch's car, probably having stolen the keys.

"Hey," Dean said, making the man stop and turn around. "Thanks." Mick nodded, but he didn't look at all happy. Dean would lie if he said he wasn't pissed at him for manipulating Castiel, but Mick had betrayed everything he knew just to help them save him, so a 'thank you' was in order.

Sam and Dean watched Mick drive away at a speed that was a little surprising even to them before they got in their own car. Dean put Castiel's head in his lap, starting stroking his hair again. He wondered how long it would be before the angel woke up.

After about two hours of driving, they stopped at a random motel. Dean waited with Castiel in the car for Sam to pay for a room. He just didn't want to leave the angel alone right now, even if he was sleeping. Of course, this was the exact moment Castiel woke up.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, his voice breaking slightly as he helped the angel sit up. Castiel pulled the blanket around himself more tightly, and looked blearily at Dean. Suddenly, there was fear in his eyes and he flinched away from Dean, but then he immediately his expression changed into a guilty and sad one.

"W-what happened?" Castiel asked quietly, barely looking at Dean.

"Uh, Mick told us what happened, and we went and saved you. Ketch's dead."

The angel nodded, a tired resignation on his face. "Because you need me."

Dean wanted to confirm that immediately, but then he stopped himself. "Do you really think you're just some angelic weapon to us?"

"Aren't I?" Now Castiel actually sounded a little angry, which Dean hadn't expected. It seemed Sam had been right.

"Dammit, Cas," Dean muttered, taking the angels hand into his own. "We saved you because you're family to us. That's it."

Castiel gave Dean a look that said 'You always say that', and then turned away again, clearly not believing him.

"I'm sorry how I've been treating you lately, buddy," said Dean, not letting go of Castiel's hand, even when the angel tried to pull it away. "I…I was jealous, okay?"

"Why?" Castiel sounded like he really had no idea.

"Because I'm in love with you, dumbass," said Dean, smiling as much as he could manage at the moment. He had expected Castiel to be happy, or surprised, or even pissed, but instead Castiel's expression hardened.

"I see. I'm still hallucinating. Or perhaps I'm dead."

"What?" Dean exclaimed. "This is real, Cas."

"Impossible. Dean Winchester doesn't reciprocate my feelings, and even if he did, he'd never say it."

Dean tried to ignore the way his insides twisted when he heard this, and took Castiel's chin into his free hand, gently making Castiel look at him.

"This is real. My feelings for you are real. They have been for years now."

Castiel's eyes widened. "Why have you never said anything?"

"Why haven't you?" Dean asked back, and Castiel looked down.

"I didn't think you'd want a broken angel in a male vessel."

"Oh, Cas," Dean muttered pulling the angel into a hug. "You're not broken. And I love _you_ , I don't care about your vessel. I mean, I'm not complaining, your vessel's hot, but if it wasn't, it wouldn't change anything."

"So why didn't you say anything?" Castiel repeated his question, and Dean sighed.

"I thought you were too good for a barely functioning alcoholic. Hell, I still do," Dean replied, and Castiel hugged him more. "But I guess if you really want me…"

"Of course I do, Dean. I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be with you."

"You are such a sap," Dean teased while he tried to blink away tears. He just hoped he wouldn't screw this up like everything else.


End file.
